On The House
by HRMatthews
Summary: Oneshot. After Gideon takes over The Shack Stan is left feeling down and out when a buddy comes to cheer him up. StanXOC


**Title:** On The House  
 **Word Count:** 2,793  
 **Summary:** After Gideon takes over _The Shack_ Stan is left feeling down and out when a buddy comes to cheer him up. StanXOC  
 **Disclaimer:** I only own Rye and Heather and the fictional B &B, everything else belongs to Disney and Alex Hirsch.

 **Notes:** I wrote this…a long time ago (back when the first season ending premiered) and I think it's time I post it. Anyways I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

On The House

Stan stood before the sink that belonged to Soos' mother, his head low and eyes screwed shut. How did he lose everything so easily? With a single snap of Gideon's fingers _everything_ that belonged to him and the twins—the pictures, the secrets, their belongings, the _money_ —came into Gideon's possession. They had the clothes on the back and whatever else they happened to have at the moment the so-called child physic invaded their home and nothing more. There wasn't a promise that they would get what they had left behind and the money…

If _only_ Stan could only get to where he hid his money away before Gideon found it…things _might_ be all right in the long run.

Ugh he wasn't even going to think about what would happen if the prick found what he had behind the vending machine…

"Stan?"

The smell of mosquito repellent wafted into the kitchen as he perked up. "Rye?"

Spinning on his heel he found the young woman in the doorway to Soos' kitchen, her right hand stretched, touching the white frame. Clad in a hoodie a size too big for and dark jeans, he spotted a few drops of water on her glasses—she hadn't come over in a hurry had she? He cleared his throat the moment his eyes met hers and stood straight, his hands smoothing out his work outfit that he had yet to change out of.

"Oh uh hey Rye!" he said as he took a step away from the nasty sink lest something cling to his outfit. "What can I do for you?"

Clearing her throat, she stepped into the kitchen, the light from the living no longer highlighting her dark brown hair. "I heard what happened," she said with a heavy sigh. She shook her head and looked him in the eye once again. Inhaling through her nose, she raised her right hand and pointed her thumb over her shoulders. "How are Dipper and Mabel?"

What a question.

Simple but there were so many ways he could answer. He couldn't lie to her, no not after everything the two of them shared but dare he open up and admit the defeat he felt? He hadn't really gotten the chance to confess to anyone else after all he wasn't going to tell the twins had bad it had gotten and Soos…well he understood but with his mind changing from one subject to another as fast as it did Stan doubted he'd get the support a part of him really desired.

The sound of Mabel laughing broke his thoughts.

Lifting his left hand, he caught her upper arm in his hand and jerked his head to the far side of the kitchen. She followed along until they came to the refrigerator beside the phone where he had given the twin's parents the bad news. Damn what a horrible conversation. First the guilt of losing the shack and now someone had to remind him of the lack of resources he had?

"The kids," he began in a low tone lest the kids hear it, "are doing well given what's happened. After all they just lost everything they own and the security of a roof over their heads but they're all right. Still fightin'."

The right corner of her lip lifted up in a smirk. "And you, Stan? How are you?"

He closed his eyes and glanced down towards the kitchen floor. "Things aren't good, Rye," he admitted. "Everything's gone. I didn't get a chance to grab _anything_. I," he looked up at her, "don't have the shack."

She bit her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

"Everything happened so _fast_." He looked by her to the cabinets behind her. "One minute I'm sleeping on my chair and then Gideon blasts his way through the shack with my deed in his hands."

He locked eyes with her again. "The kids have to go home early."

"I'm so sorry, Stan."

"I can't support them," he went on, attention never leaving her, "without the shack we don't have a place to live, access to food—I can't put the kids through that."

"And you?"

His shoulders relaxed as a slight laugh left him. Oh she always knew how to make him laugh no matter what the situation. "I've been through worse." He waved his right hand. "I'll make it on my own—it isn't anything I haven't done before. In fact I've been through worse, but I'll bore you with that story later." Again he moved his right hand as if to sweep everything underneath some imaginary rug.

" _Stan_."

His thoughts came to a stop at the sound of his whispered stepped forward before he could protest and pressed her lips against his. His eyes widened at the sudden act after all Soos' family and the twins were in the next room, a smack of lips or moan could bring the ever curious Dipper into the kitchen and he didn't need to know anything about the two of them.

But aw hell it made his shoulders relax and his heart pump faster for something _other_ than adrenaline fueled anxiety. Oh how long had it been? Not too long he thought, the memories slipping away as she pressed her arms to his chest closing the distance between them so nothing could slip between. The arm of her glasses brushed over his, an action he had grown so used to cherishing.

Screwing his eyes shut as pleasure overtook every nerve in his body their lips parted for a moment only to come back together in another rush of movement he demanded without words. He moved his arms around her, his hands running up her cold hoodie to the back of her head. He laced his fingers through her thick locks and held her, careful to keep himself in check. Rye caught his lower lip between her lips for a mere second, releasing it as their lips landed against one another again.

Stan's heart slammed against his ribcage as it always did whenever Rye came around and the all too precious world consumed him. He had been here many times since the first night they had been together and even though a single kiss often promised so much more she restrained herself.

She knew.

As much as the idea of being together tempted him, too many things stood before it. Her kiss would have to do for now or at least that's what he told himself as he pulled back for moment to regain control of the kiss.

The young woman spread her fingers on his chest, her right hand resting just over his breast pocket. The sensation of something moving in his pocket made him move her hands to her shoulders but before he could draw back Rye moved her forearms over his shoulders.

Despite having being together for awhile now he felt his partner trying to catch up with his more experienced moves. Even as they kissed she battled for control—why did she have to fight him? She battled him verbally whenever they teased one another and even now in such a private moment she demanded that he give into her but he wasn't going to give in. Not here, not now!

Yet just as he ended his thought, Rye drew back but remained close to keep the conversation quiet. She panted against his lips, the air from her lungs brushing over his over stimulated skin only reminding him that his partner was only a step away from him.

"I have," Rye began with a laugh, "room for you and the others back at the B-and-B." She moved her hands back down to his chest. "We're always open for you and your family—ghosts and poltergeist activities thrown in without charge."

"I," he removed his hand from her hair and placed his hands on her shoulders, "can't ask that of you."

Rye raised a brow. "And why not?"

"It's tourist season and with what's going on with the Shack it's not a good idea." He shook his head and returned his attention to her. "Gideon might pull something and I'm not going to risk the bed and breakfast."

She looked away from him for a moment, as if to digest the answer he had just given her. After a silent moment she turned back to him, a slight smirk making the right corner of her lips curl.

"I understand," she answered with a nod. "I just…" she sighed. "This really isn't fair to any of you and I feel like I'm just _standing_ here, watching. Please," she reached up to her shoulder and grabbed his right hand with hers, "tell me what I can do and when."

"I," he nodded, "will Rye, trust me."

Squeezing her shoulders once more, Rye caught his gaze. Ugh those damn brown eyes of hers! He'd looked into them millions of times it felt but they always managed to catch him off guard with how much emotion they held. His heart slammed against his ribcage at the sight, and again the urge to pull her in for another round of lip locking teased him.

Rye turned her attention elsewhere first. "I should get going—I don't feel safe leaving Heather back at the place alone with Gideon running around."

"Yeah." Stan withdrew his hand and sighed. "Anyways, thanks for," he swallowed the lump growing in his throat, "comin' to check on us."

The younger woman chuckled. "It's what neighbors do," she said with a wink. "Walk me to the door?"

"More like _push_ ," Stan replied rolling his eyes.

Glancing over her shoulder she shot him a pout. "And after I came all this way to see you! And in the rain!"

Rye stepped into the living room first and as he expected all attention moved to the two of them. Scenario he had come to master ever since meeting the woman, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well I didn't ask you to."

"Aw are you leaving all ready?" Mabel asked, turning away from the small TV. "You just got here."

"Sorry Mabel," Rye grimaced, "but I've got to get back to the B and B. If you guys need anything just stop by the inn all right?"

Mabel's eyes widened. "Like that _amazing_ breakfast Heather makes in the morning?" She gasped, Dipper now turned in Rye's direction. "It's the most awesome of breakfast food put together at one time! Can we come over tomorrow?"

"Of course." Rye nodded, her smile growing. "I'll make sure to keep something warm for ya if you wanna sleep in."

Stan watched his niece and nephew high fived one another—after all Heather was one of the best cooks in _Gravity Falls_ and to have a _free_ meal made by her sounded so damn tempting. No—with Gideon out and looking for any other chance to jump him Stan had to keep away from the Inn and the two girls who owned it overall.

And there was, of course, the chance that Bill stumbled over something about Rye while raiding his mind for the password to the safe. If there was one _being_ he didn't want to know about his relationship with Rye it would be _Bill_.

"By the way…"

Stan jerked out of his thoughts as Rye came to a stop a few feet in front of him. Grinning like a kid on Christmas morning she lifted her right hand and pointed her index finger towards his chest. .

"You dropped your pocket."

Oh!

Message delivered, Rye spun on her heel and said one last goodbye to everyone and a 'thank you' to Soos' mother before departing, the chill of the summer storm seeping into the house. She slipped through the door and closed it before more heat could escape the home.

"Mr. Pines?"

Had his mind wandered off again? Blinking a few times, he glanced over towards Soos and found his employee now roommate looking back at him. Stan glanced around and moved away from the doorway to the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Are you feelin' all right?"

He frowned. "About as well I can be. Why?"

"Well," Soos' gaze moved to the left and then returned, "I've never seen you smile like that," he answered. "Did Rye say something?"

 _Shit._

"No." Stan straightened his outfit out and glanced over to the others in case they had picked up on any of it. Eyes glued to the game show playing on the TV no one even looking over their shoulders in question. Good!

"She just wanted to check up on the twins," he nodded towards his family, "anyway," he waved his right hand, "I gotta go see a man about a goat."

Hoping that Soos dare not push the issue, Stan left the kitchen doorway and made his way to the guest bathroom Soos pointed out to him when him and the twins arrived on his doorstep homeless.

Gah even in his mental voice the word 'homeless' just sounded so bitter! Sure he'd been without a roof over his head before but he had two kids to look after! Not to mention that his entire life's work was now in the chubby hands of the fake psychic but as Mabel asked for pizza the books and promises he made to himself seemed so far away.

Stepping into the bathroom, Stan locked the door and moved his left hand over his jacket pocket—the very one Rye said he 'dropped' before leaving. He slid his fingers into the thin and shallow pocket there when his fingertips brushed over something he knew all too well. No…she didn't!

Grabbing what she had given him with his index and middle fingers, he pulled out a small collection of twenty dollar bills held together with a simple paperclip. With a furrowed brow he slid the money out of the clip and counted like he had millions of times before the amount that weighed so much in his hands.

Two-hundred and fifty dollars.

He shook his head to clear his mind and focused his attention back at the money resting in his hand. Stan marched over to the clean counter near the sink and set the money down as he would when a customer needed cash back.

Two-hundred and fifty dollars _again_.

He clenched the twenties, tens, and ones as heat gathered around his cheeks. God to go from everything he had to now relying on _Rye_ , who _he_ promised to provide for, Gideon may as well have slapped in the face in front of the entire town! The one person other than the twins that he cared for, promised things to, now handed over whatever she and her sister made without so much as a promise to pay it back?

Yet as the initial anger and frustration bubbled down the real reason _why_ she had given him the money. She slid it in his pocket so he could not refuse her nor debate just how much he needed. Rye showed up with money without hesitation or question and knew him well enough that she dare not offer it out in the open.

She _loved_ him.

All those long nights in the Shack with whispers of breathless confessions to the very first that took place on his couch—they all came rushing back to him as he stood there, money in his hand—the _only_ money he could even _think_ of claiming. This was the only way she could help _him_. With him staying as far away from the B and B he could she could at least ensure the kids got something to eat (seriously Soos only had an empty gallon of milk in the fridge). He could do this—he'd done it on less without anyone to rely on.

Glancing back to the money he released a long sigh through his nose. He had to give Heather credit too, no doubt the two siblings had talked over the amount and that _alone_ with the fact that they gifted it to him the _day_ of losing the Shack meant that much more.

Stan folded the money and slipped it into the pocket of his coat—wallet back in the Shack and no doubt being rummaged through.

Brushing the tip of his thumb underneath his nose, he straightened his back and smoothed out whatever Rye had left out of place with her lip lock. Collected despite the surprise visit he'd received, he turned on his heel and left the bathroom with a single thought in mind:

He'd pay Rye back times ten.

He'd give Heather a discount or something for helping but Rye—he'd pay her back for every single cent.

That much he could promise her.


End file.
